The usual characters were there: the wizened old man with his capacious purse; the old hag in black cashmere and rouged face playing and winning; and, alas! the foolish young man who staked always in the wrong place until he had flung away his last louis. In all the world there is no stranger panorama of life than that presented at ten o’clock at night at the tables of Monte Carlo. It is unique, indescribable--appalling. Temptation is spread before the unwary in all its forms, until the fevered atmosphere of gold and avarice throbs with evil, becomes nauseous, and one longs for a breath of the fresh night air and a refreshing drink to take the bad taste out of one’s mouth. I played, merely because Ulrica and Dolly Allen played. I think I won three or four louis, but am not certain of the amount. You ask why? Because seated at the table exactly opposite to where I stood unnoticed among the crowd was Ernest Cameron. At his side was the inevitable red and black card whereon he registered each number as it came up; before him were several little piles of louis and a few notes; while behind him, leaning now and then over his chair and whispering, was _that woman_! At frequent intervals he played, generally upon the dozens, and even then rather uncertainly. But he often lost. Once or twice he played with fairly large stakes upon a chance that appeared practically certain; but he had no luck, and the croupier raked them in. For fully a dozen times he staked two louis on the last twelve numbers, but with that perversity which sometimes seems to seize the roulette-ball, the numbers came up between 1 and 24. Suddenly the tow-haired woman who had replaced me in his affections leaned over and said in a voice quite audible to me,-- “Put the maximum on number 6!” With blind obedience he counted out the sum sufficient to win the maximum of six thousand francs, and pushed it upon the number she had named. “Rien ne va plus!” cried the croupier next instant, and there, sure enough, I saw the ball drop into the number the witch had prophesied. The croupier counted the stake quickly, and pushed with his rake towards the fortunate player notes for six thousand francs, folded in half, with the simple words,-- “En plein.” “Enough!” cried the woman prompting him. “Play no more to-night!” He sighed, and with a strange, preoccupied air, gathered up his coin, notes, and other belongings, while a player tossed over a five-franc piece to “mark” his place, or, in other words, to secure his chair when he vacated it. Then, still obedient to her, he rose with a faint smile upon his lips. As he did so, he raised his eyes, and they fell full upon mine, for I was standing there watching him. Our gaze met suddenly. Next instant, however, the light died out from his countenance, and he stood glaring at me as though I were an apparition. His mouth was slightly opened, his hand trembled, his brows contracted, and his face grew ashen.